


So... That Coke Ad, Huh? What Happened There?

by UnapologeticallyMeatwad



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Character Bashing: Don Draper, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnapologeticallyMeatwad/pseuds/UnapologeticallyMeatwad
Summary: In the years following his departure from SC&P, Ginsberg rehabilitates, and then he watches the Coke commercial. Then he notices it's from the agency Peggy and Stan work at. The one Don works at. And he feels anger. Because he knows what that ad means for his friends, so he finds them.
Relationships: Michael Ginsberg/Peggy Olson/Stan Rizzo
Kudos: 3





	So... That Coke Ad, Huh? What Happened There?

Peggy gets up with a start, backing into the corner of her office in McCann. “Who let you in? What do you want?”

Ginsberg bites back a nervous smile, hands in the air, pink in the face. At least he has the courtesy to leave her door open. “I just wanted to talk, and uh, so-and-so an’ such-and-such let me in. Trust me, I’m good.”

Peggy grinds her teeth together and nods, getting back into her seat, gesturing for him to come closer. 

“I’m sorry about my  _ Man Who Knew Too Much _ routine I pulled on ya,” he says, taking the chair in front of her. “And the Van Gogh thing.”

It’s been… probably three years since she’s last seen him. Though she’s sort of decided that wasn’t the last time she saw him, because that wasn’t really him. Not the guy she befriended. Who she saw kicking and screaming was a man she liked, loved, consumed by his illnesses. Turned into someone else.

She always imagined him turning up with wider eyes and a sallow face, but if anything, he’s put on some weight. His eyes are much more present. Maybe he twitches more. 

She furrows her brow. “Van Gogh?”

He traces an invisible circle around his breast pocket, and laughs it off. “Yeah, Van Gogh. I, uh, wanted to talk to ya. Briefly, I guess. I just had a question.”

“Okay?” Peggy nods. “How’d you find me?”

“Oh,” he thumbs his nose. “Ever since I, uh, got carried out, I’ve been following you guys.” He nods with a reassuring smile. “Like, the company, not, you, personally.”

“Right,” she says. 

He thumbs his nose again, looking at his knees. “Man, it’s really gray over here, huh?”

“Yeah,” she leans back. “Sorry, Michael, this is—”

“ _ Ginzo _ ?!” Stan calls out from the doorway, voice somewhere between delight and horror. The color drains from what can be seen of his face behind that gigantic beard and he slips in, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Damn,” Ginsberg frowns, looking past his shoulder. “You really doubled down on being a big bear, huh?”

Stan pulls over a chair and crashes down, looking awful dour. “ _ Half  _ a bear. If you catch my drift.”

“Ooh,” Ginsberg whistles. “You two?”

“Oh yeah,” Stan nods, very tired. “You good?”

“I’m good,” Ginsberg says softly.

What? Bear? Halves of… bears? Ultimately, Peggy decides not to ask. It takes her a second to catch what she wanted to say, something about this being uncomfortable. But with Stan there, it’s not so bad.

“Uh, right,” Ginsberg stammers. “Okay, so… I was institutionalized and shit, ya know, whatever. I’m healthy, I’d rather not say anything else. The thing is,” he looks up at Peggy meaningfully and swats at the air. “I been watching TV.”

Stan crosses his legs and leans into one hip. Peggy stays rigid at her desk.

“There was… uh, this Coke ad, I saw,” Ginsberg nods along, as if there’s a rhythm he’s trying to keep. “The uh,” he points at the ceiling and sings softly under his breath, “ _ I’d like to buy the world a Coke _ , y’know what I’m talking about?”

Stan snorts. “It’s all this agency can talk about. Another homer for Draper.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. She feels similarly, but she’d rather just drop it. Talking about Don like she used to is just… regressive. “Yes, we worked on that. Did you like it?”

Ginsberg gives her a thousand yard stare and shrugs. “When you say it’s… Don, do ya mean like, one hundo percent Don? Or do you mean Glo-Coat kinda Don?”

Not expecting Ginsberg to remember that, since he wasn’t even working with them at that point in her career, she smiles. Just like old times. “The first one. You hate the ad, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” Ginsberg laughs. “I just had to check, ya know, don’t wanna insult you guys, I’m sure you did good.”

Stan snorts again. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You came all the way out here to ask about our Coke ad? From two years ago?”

“Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking about it,” Ginsberg kicks an ankle up and perches his chin on his hand. “I knew it was Don, I uh, read that. And it just doesn’t… check out to me. Everything else I’ve seen from the ad world, with what I know, it checks out. But  _ that _ ? From  _ him _ ?”

Peggy groans and finally falls back in her chair, playing with the pen still gripped between her fingers, jaw locked. 

“Aw shit,” Ginsberg frowns. “Was their drama on this thing?”

Peggy nods and takes out a sticky note, writing something down on it. 

_ These offices aren’t soundproof like the old ones. Meet Stan and I outside at 5. We’ll get takeout at our place _ .

She passes it over. Ginsberg takes it and his eyes widen. “Okay. Uh.” He gets up, knees shaking like harp strings. He eyes the gray dividers and with glassy eyes, starts shouting. “Dammit Peggy! You gotta stop defending that guy! He’s a misogynistic fraud! And uh—”

At first, it gives her a start to see him shouting, really brings her back to that moment, but when she sees Stan cracking up and trying not to laugh, she chuckles under her breath. And then she laughs because he really doesn’t need to—

“—that gray suit ensemble he’s always doing! He, uh, it makes him look like a square! YA HEAR ME DON!? A SQUARE!” 

He turns on his heel and barges out the door, gently shutting it while also kicking it to make it sound like a slam. Immediately, Peggy and Stan lock eyes, jaws clamped tight, like it’s a competition. Who’s gonna break first?

“You hear that sheeple?!” Ginsberg shouts. “HEY! Don’t you walk away from me, you square!” 

“Huh?” says someone who is definitely  _ not _ Don Draper, but is  _ also _ a square so, eh. 

There’s a loud scream as Ginsberg punches probably-Harry Crane in the balls, and more of a commotion as office doors swing open and secretaries swoop in. Once it’s loud enough, Peggy and Stan laugh together.

“He’s such a drama queen,” Stan shakes his head, getting to his feet.

* * *

“Okay, so first off,” Stan says as the three of them huddle in the alleyway besides McCann. “You didn’t need to do that.”

Ginsberg blinks and makes a face like he’s insulted. “Puh-lease. You numbnuts needed that performance. Meeting with an undesirable like me.” He hesitates and bobs in like a chicken. “I was  _ perfect. _ Don’t even.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “You just wanted to kick Harry Crane in the family jewels.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Ginsberg snickers at the memory of it. “I punched him in the  _ dick _ by the way. It’s different. Fuck that guy.” His lips fold in under his giant mustache and he nods. “So… where we going?”

It doesn’t take too long to get to their one bedroom apartment. McCann pays well enough that Peggy and Stan were able to afford a close apartment about a year ago. Though Peggy sort of regrets it, it makes her nostalgic for the days where she lived outside of the city and it took more than an hour to come in. Easier to separate her mind from work back then.

Stan orders some Chinese and Peggy sits on the sofa, Ginsberg sits across her on the armchair. Stan finishes up and sits besides Peggy and… there’s just something so _ tense _ about it. She doesn’t really know what it is, just that it’s weird. 

Then Peggy tells the story. How Don left McCann in the middle of some meeting, without saying goodbye to anyone, which led to a phone call from him where Peggy honestly thought he was going to kill himself. 

“ _ I took another man’s name, I broke all my vows… I scandalized my child. _ ”

Peggy told him she didn’t believe him, that it wasn’t true. 

But. 

She knows Don. 

She lied. Because what else was she supposed to do? He put her in a very uncomfortable position. As always.

And then he just came back.  _ Enlightened _ , he said. He explained it in a big office meeting. At that point, Don had already been fired. If the meeting went poorly, she and Ted, who arranged the whole thing, would have been next. But of course it went well because it was  _ Don _ . 

He didn’t even look at her. His eyes were glassy, but his mouth was smiling. He showed his teeth for once, he was so excited. He really seemed okay. And then he pitched his idea. And everyone loved it, Peggy loved it too. She thought it was beautiful. 

But something always felt wrong with the ad. 

It took her a year to understand what that was. 

Not coincidentally, that was the same amount of time it took for Peggy to realize nothing about Don had changed. He went to some… hippie commune, made a few sad phone calls, and came back like nothing happened under the pretense he was happy now. He meditated, and he smiled more often, but he still did the same shit. 

And they didn’t talk. They weren’t friends.

The office was so big, her work never crossed over with his. It made her so angry. He had the  _ nerve _ to come to her home when Sterling Cooper was falling apart (the first time) and he told her she was wrong. That if they didn’t work together, he’d never talk to her again.  _ I will spend the rest of my life trying to hire you _ . 

Well. She’s here. And nothing’s happening. It doesn’t mean anything. It never meant anything.

At least he doesn’t come to her for help anymore. Either because he knows what she knows, or he is just being more careful than he used to. 

When Peggy finishes her story, it’s very quiet and the takeout is half-gone. 

Ginsberg is sullen, his head bowed, deep in thought. 

“Sorry, I was rambling,” Peggy frowns. Stan reaches over and takes her hand. It’s greasy, from the food.

Then Ginsberg does too. Reaches over and takes her hand that is. His eyes shimmer. Bits of fried rice are in his mustache. 

“You know what’s wild, guys?” Ginsberg croaks. Hearing his raspy voice hurts her throat. “I already knew all that. Just from watching the ad.”

Peggy and Stan say nothing.

Ginsberg moves in and the couple finds themselves shifting a cushion over to make room for him. He’s so close. And sweaty.

“I knew Don made the thing, and I knew it was him because…” Ginsberg looks away and swallows something with disdain. “...it made me angry. I love that kinda culture, and to see it… capitalized, like that. It tricks people, you know? It makes them think we can really… co-exist.”

Stan reaches out suddenly and takes Ginsberg’s other hand. It doesn’t bother Peggy for some reason. 

Ginsberg shakes his head. “Ever since the shit I pulled, I’ve been doubting myself. Because I gotta fight to keep control of my head, and I wasn’t sure if I was delusional or not.” He swallows again. “It’s cool you guys work with him, ya know, gotta pay the rent and shit. But uh,” he looks up at them. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all”

She could kiss him.

Warmth pushes against her wrist, the wrist intertwined with Stan’s. She thinks Stan could kiss him too.

“Anyways,” Ginsberg slips away, getting up. “I oughta go. I’m really bringing down the mood, it was, uh, selfish of me, to bring this shit back up for you, and—”

“No,” Peggy hears herself say. “Stay.”

Ginsberg freezes, and lowers himself back down. “Okay, so like I said, I don’t trust my head anymore, you two are going to need to walk me through exactly what you’re thinking before I goof and—”

Stan shuffles from his spot and drags over the armchair until the three of them are seated in a triangle. He reaches out and cups Ginsberg’s jaw. “We got you, buddy.”

Peggy leans in too. But before that, she catches Stan’s eye and he winks. God, she’s so grateful for them.

It’s nice. It really is.


End file.
